


Gobliiins: The Novelizaton

by Wayens



Category: Gobliiins
Genre: Fanfiction, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-13
Updated: 2012-05-13
Packaged: 2017-11-05 07:13:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/403772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wayens/pseuds/Wayens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The king of goblins has literally fallen ill.  Three unlikely subjects will have to find a cure in the queerest ways imaginable.</p><p>based on the award-winning puzzle adventure game from Sierra Online and Coktel Vision</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The Royal Fall

The king of Goblinia has gone crazy. Now usually such an occurrence would not be unusual. Goblins being imps are often susceptible to bouts of looniness. But with the case of King Angoulafre the First and Last, insanity never came so painfully.

It was an usual unusual day of dining and merriment inthe king's banquet hall, filled with discordant music and irrelevant conversation to while away the time it took to cook and serve a twelve course meal. Roast pigs running off the table didn't help serving the king and his guests any easier. But even with such complications, dinner was still served and the guests' bellies were still stuffed.

As the king lazily watched the antics of the local hangliders' guild, waiting for his meal to digest so that he could start on the next one, a sudden jolt of pain screamed through his chest. Actually the scream was his, but at the moment all the king could think of was the pain and it wasn't pretty. With each jolt, the king saw a bolt of blue, a sickly blue often associated with toilet fresheners, tinged with yellow and red dots. In truth, it was the scenery of the sky filled with hangliders being extremely blurred each time pain ensued, but that's laughable compared to the fact that the king now felt like meat from a shishkabob without the need to eat any.

Suddenly, the pain stopped and the king turned around to look at his subjects. Only wide eyes greeted him. The king tried to say something to his faithful and presently bug-eyed subjects, anything to ease their minds and prevent future indigestion which wouldn't bode well for his future culinary reputation. He calmly opened his kingly orifice and solemnly said "OW!" A sledgehammer had just dropped on his head, shooting his crown into the air and blasting his senses into oblivion.

The king's subjects were stunned not so much by the noise as by the king's bad oral hygiene. The king had killer breath and his subjects often brought along gas masks whenever they called on him. As soon as the blast of fumes that gave a whole new meaning to "royal (bloody murder)" sprung forth from the king's cavernous orifice, the masks were donned in a flash with not a moment to spare. Fortunately, there were no casualties except for a few who lost consciousness due to leaky gas masks. Meanwhile, the king's breath fumed and roared down the stairwell to run down some other unsuspecting victims before it completely dissipated.

No one need report the casualties resulting from the kingly gas's romp through the castle for it is irrelevant to this story and quite commonplace so as to be un-newsworthy. Besides, the GSS (Goblin Secret Service) does not allow such figures to escape the castle grounds lest it ruin the king's image -- which is of no concern since it's ruined already, but appearances still have to be kept.

After suffering a number of senses-shattering blows to his noggin, the king lay still. One of his subjects approached warily, still not daring to take off his gas mask, and asked "Ah fay, yer ma'estee, are you a'right?" His voice was muffled behind his gas mask and barely audible, but the king must have heard or he might not have. In any case, he stirred and said weakly "Would someone get me some aspirin?"

No one knew the details of the king's medicine cabinet or even where it was located, but an untouched roast pig rose and hastily obliged, though it must have lost its way in the winding ways of the goblin castle for it was never heard from again. In the meantime, aspirin had already fled the king's mind and was replaced by an irrational, all-encompassing fear. A spider had appeared in front of the king's nose. Only visible to the king, this spider did a little jig on the end of its webline and threatened King A with its pulsating fangs.

Have you ever heard of Arachnophobia? Well, the king has it and he has it bad. He blubbered and cried like a baby, covering his eyes to shut out the sight and then checking to see whether it was still there. Seeing that it was, the pattern started anew.

The loyal subjects were flabbergasted as to the cause of their king's present behavior. Some said magic was at work here. Others voiced that the king had ate too many roast pigs at mealtime and now the pigs were giving him a royal tummyache. "Bloody hell is more like it, wouldn't you say?" quipped the young musicker. "It's ghosts I tell ya!" screamed the wine-girl. "Yea, the ghosts of those poor pigs," teased the urchin hiding under the table. At which everybody glared at the boy and threw him out the castle window, the boy hitting a hang-glider on the way down.

As the screams reigned, the king's blubbering began to subside. The spider had faded from view and the world finally returned to "normal." No spiders, no multi-colored blurs of pain, no screaming headaches. The king feebly rose to his feet.

"My people..." the subjects heard and spun around as one to see their king standing before them and laughing. Yes, laughing.

You see, the king was just about to assure his people that all was now well when he suddenly got a rather annoying itch under his nose. And, as he tried to speak, the itch became worse until it threw the poor king into fits of laughter before he could even spit out a whole sentence.

The subjects were dumbfounded. (Since their group was founded by the dumb anyway, it was of no consequence.) But speechlessness was soon replaced by hurt and anger. They didn't see any reason for mirth especially when the laughter was directed at them. They didn't like being taken for the fools that they were and felt the king was doing them a great wrong.

The king didn't like the looks on his subjects' faces and tried to stop laughing long enough to explain. He only managed to make matters worse by spraying spit on them and guffawing even louder.

That was the proverbial "last straw" and the king's last spit. The "loyal" subjects with a mighty wimpy roar, ganged up on the king and threw His Royal Majesty out the Royal 32nd Floor Window with the king laughing helplessly all the way down.

Sources later said that the king was found in the turkey pen where he seemed to fit rather nicely, and was sent to the Royal Clinic where he now resides suffering from massive melotrauma, fits of maniacal laughter, and screaming-bloody-murder headaches. King Angoulafre the First and Last had definitely lost his mind.


	2. Niak No Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which three royal subjects gain audience with a wizard with many winces.

"He was insane to begin with! I can't see why we have to cure him now," grumbled Dwayne Handigob as he trundled along the road to the mage's domicile. "It's not like he's going to be much better once we do." 

"Buck up, companion-in-arms," said Bobo the Warrior. "There must be good reason to embark on this journey. Think of this as the Grand Adventure!" 

"Yea," agreed Hooter Fumblepaw. "Maybe I can learn some new spells from this Niak fellow." 

Niak was the mage they were sent to seek help from. Considering that he was reputed to be a stingy, cravenous old stink, Dwayne doubted that Niak would ever be so hospitable as to let them in, much less teach Hooter any spells. 

The cottage where Niak supposedly dwelled wasn't as far away as many had thought. Wizards were seclusive beings and, as a rule, didn't like much company. Dwayne had expected a journey of at least a week. His companions and he had reached the cottage in three days. 

Constructed of stone with a straw-thatched roof, the cottage itself was not much to look at. The archway, however, sported an eerie cow skull with large eyes still intact, looking down on the unexpected visitors. The companions stood in front of the archway, eyeing the "sentinel" warily, afraid of any spells of warding Niak may have cast on it. 

"Harrumph!" gruffed Bobo. "This is not the way a warrior should act. I shall knock the offensive object off its perch and then we shall safely enter." 

Bobo stalked up to the base of the archway and, adopting an imposing fighting stance, soundly punched the base. 

There was a snap from the top of the archway and Bobo turned back to his companions with a triumphant grin, only to be replaced by a painful grimace when the headpiece landed on his head. 

Luckily, Bobo's helmet absorbed most of the impact. Unluckily, the impact created a strong vibration, which traveled from the helmet down through poor Bobo's whole body. 

"Wi-i-i-i-ll s-o-o-o-meb-o-o-dy p-p-p-lea-ea-se sto-o-o-p the wo-o-o-rld from sha-a-a-king-ng-ng-ng?" 

After steadying the warrior, Dwayne and Hooter looked at the fallen object. Only a horn had fallen. The cow skull was still there, more menacing than ever. 

"Now what?" asked Hooter shakily. 

"Well, this thing is magical," Dwayne observed. "Couldn't you hex it down for us, Hooter? After all, you are versed in magic, aren't you?" 

"Me?" squeaked Hooter, who could only think how his hex spells more often worked against him than for him. He took a deep calming breath and squinted up at the one-horned headpiece and then frowned, shaking his head. "The thing is too far away. My magic will not reach it." 

"Hmmph," snorted Bobo. "We can fix that." And Hooter found himself in the air. 

"What are you dooooiiiing?!" screamed Hooter as he flew. 

"You wanted to get in range didn't you?" Bobo shouted, laughing, waving goodbye in encouragement at his airborne comrade. 

The screaming Hooter flew up towards the headpiece, over the headpiece, and down past the enwalled courtyard with a direct smack against the cottage door. The hard knock resounded through the valley and roosting birds rose from the thatch roof with startled cries, circling above the property in confusion over the ruckus. 

Seeing that there didn't seem to be a ward after all, Dwayne and Bobo entered cautiously and ran over to check on their unconscious friend. But before they could wake their fallen fellow, a strident scraping sound startled the two into looking up to see the door panel thrust to the side as presumably the owner of the cottage looked out, two burning orbs of annoyance darting left and right, looking for the source of the disturbance. 

"What's all that racket! Can't a mage brew any spells in peace around this damn hellhole?!" 

Hooter woke with a start and grinned sheepishly, "Sorry, I missed it." 

The pair of eyes looked down at the sound and narrowed as it took in the three plain goblins. 

"Great Niak?" Dwayne guessed. 

The eyes narrowed further, if that was possible, and the voice behind them dripped with condescension. "Oh, it's only imps. Whatever you're selling, I'm not buying!" And the panel began to slide back shut. 

"How dare he?" Bobo spoke indignantly. The warrior jumped up and grabbed the panel before it closed. "I'll have you know that I'm a First Rank Warrior in the King's army!" 

"And I'm the court magician!" piped up Hooter. 

"And I'm His Majesty's Royal Handiman!" added Dwayne. 

"And I'm the King of the World!" replied Niak bitingly. "Now be off with you. I don't have time to waste on you little imps. I have important work to do." 

Bobo was about to bluster, but Dwayne placed a hand on his shoulder and shook his head warningly. 

"Please, kind wizard," said Dwayne with an inward wince. "We are in dire need of your help. Our King Angoulafre of Goblinia has contracted the Madness and we need a wizard's magic to counter it." 

"Affairs of imps matter little to me. So if you'll excuse me..." 

"But-" 

"Begone!" 

"Please," pleaded Dwayne. "There must be something we could do in exchange for your assistance. Our kingdom is in great need." 

The wizard's eyes paused in its movement away from the door and the voice came back, gruff and harsh. "Bring me the diamond embedded in the rough and I shall consider your request" With that, Niak slammed closed the shutter. 

"By Angoulafre's beard!" cried Bobo as he shook with the agitation only possible by blind fury. In frustrated rage, the severely agitated warrior charged the gate with his helmet and rammed it hard. The echoes could be heard all the way back to Goblinia where Angoulafre raised himself from his stupor and asked for someone to "Please, stop that racket." 

The headpiece was said to once have been a malcontent bull who wanted to see all that went under him. He got his wish. The loose horn on the other side of the headpiece wobbled and fell. Right on to Bobo's head. Again.

**Author's Note:**

> began 3/29/1995


End file.
